


Salve

by agreatwave



Series: Where in the World is Patrick Brewer? [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 4x11 The Rollout, Canon Compliant, Family Dynamics, Insecure David, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Protective Patrick, Sickfic, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23102983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agreatwave/pseuds/agreatwave
Summary: “This isruiningour romantic eye cream ritual,” David mopes.“What, this isn’t romantic?” Patrick teases, moving on to David’s forehead.“It’s kind of romantic, I guess,” David grumbles. “Like as romantic as a rash can get.”Missing Scenes from 4x11 The Rollout
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Where in the World is Patrick Brewer? [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622923
Comments: 56
Kudos: 434





	Salve

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back! This is the fourth story in a series of short ficlets exploring each episode of Schitt's Creek from which Patrick has been missing since his introduction to the show. Stories can be read chronologically or on their own.
> 
> This one isn’t so much about what Patrick was doing _during_ the episode as after it because I didn’t think Patrick’s business seminar would be of interest to anyone but Patrick.
> 
> Also, fair warning, but this gets a wee bit critical of the Rose parents, Johnny in particular, which I feel especially bad about after this last episode when he was so incredibly lovely. I just wanted to explore a slightly more complicated side of dating a Rose child and contending with their past with their family.

**Salve**

**4x11 The Rollout**

Patrick might be driving just slightly over the speed limit, which is stupid. David has poison oak, which Patrick had at least three times as a kid and once as an adult; it’s not a big deal, but this _is_ David he’s talking about. David, who sounds like he’s had a truly terrible day from nearly start to finish, dealing with his Dad and Brenda and what fortunately turned out to be poison oak, and not, as David originally assumed, flesh-eating disease. He’s going to be completely fine.

Still, there had been something in David’s voice on the phone when Patrick had called him back after receiving a string of increasingly incoherent voicemails during his seminar, something a bit shaky and vulnerable that made Patrick skip the networking event he’d planned to attend to drive back to Schitt’s Creek early.

By the time Patrick gets to Rose Apothecary, it’s nearly closing time and the store is empty of both customers and his boyfriend. Patrick ducks his head behind the curtain to check the back room and furrows his brow when he doesn’t see David there. He doesn’t think David would actually leave the store unattended, definitely not without locking up, and when he walks back into the storefront, his feeling is confirmed when he notices the light under the bathroom door.

“David?” He calls out.

“Patrick?” David calls back, sounding alarmed. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here today.”

“I drove back early,” Patrick explains, standing outside the bathroom door.

“Oh.”

There’s a long pause.

“Are you going to come out?” Patrick asks finally.

“No.”

“Ok, then can I come in?” 

“I don’t want you to look at me,” David whines.

“David, come on, you know I’m not going to think you’re any less attractive just because you have a little rash,” Patrick exclaims.

“Ok, but it's on my _face_ , Patrick! We’re still in the stage of our relationship where you’re supposed to think I’m effortlessly sexy!” 

Well, that’s just ridiculous. First of all, David is sexy in a way Patrick can barely handle sometimes. He hasn’t had so many inconvenient erections since he was thirteen. Secondly, he thinks “effortless” probably left the station the first time Patrick witnessed David’s unbelievably elaborate skin care routine. 

Patrick sighs and decides to just bite the bullet. The sooner he gets to the point, the sooner he might actually have a chance of convincing David to let Patrick make him feel better.

“Ok, I don’t want you to freak out -”

“Yeah, bit late for that,” David bites back.

“But even the mildest case of poison oak can last anywhere between five to twelve days. So unless you actually want to wear a mask to work for the next two weeks, I’m afraid I’m going to see you with a rash.”

There’s a long, shocked silence from behind the door. Then, unexpectedly, a sniffle. 

“David,” Patrick says, softening. “Please, can you let me in?”

There’s another long pause.

“Fine.”

Patrick eases open the door to find his boyfriend sitting on the closed toilet lid, his shoulders hunched and his face hidden in his hands. When Patrick closes the door behind them, David looks up at him, the jut of his chin defiant even if his eyes are damp. 

“Here, let me see,” Patrick says calmly, cradling David’s neck and tilting his face toward the light over the sink.

David lets Patrick move him without protest, like always, and Patrick feels an inconvenient flame of heat spark in his belly that he ignores. He peers at the reddened skin sprawling from the right side of David’s forehead to just below his cheekbone, relieved to see how mild it is after David’s hyperbolic description on the phone.

“David, it’s barely anything,” Patrick says, fondly exasperated. 

“Well I’m _sorry_ if I’m accustomed to flawless skin,” David huffs, but he sounds relieved.

“Come home with me,” Patrick says.

“What? Why?”

“I have calamine lotion in my medicine cabinet. I always keep some handy; there’s tons of poison oak on the hiking trails around here. Also, I didn’t get to see you all day.”

Patrick watches the battle taking place on David’s still achingly beautiful face.

“Oh. I mean. Ok,” David accepts, feigning nonchalance like Patrick can’t see the smile hovering at the corners of his mouth.

“Good,” Patrick says, pecking David on the lips, glad to see David starting to calm down.

~~~

“Ew! You can’t _touch_ the rash!”

David is perched on the bathroom counter at Ray’s and looks truly appalled.

“David, just let me do this, please? You’re getting yourself all worked up for nothing,” Patrick shoots back impatiently, already scooping some lotion from the tin.

“This is so disgusting. You’re never going to want to sleep with me again,” David moans dramatically.

Patrick barks out a genuine laugh.

“David, there is almost literally nothing you could do that would make me not want to sleep with you again. Sit still, I don’t want to get this in your eyes.”

Patrick steps between David's legs and begins applying the cool cream, fingers trailing over David’s cheekbone to massage the lotion into his temple, being careful around his eyes.

“This is _ruining_ our romantic eye cream ritual,” David mopes.

“What, this isn’t romantic?” Patrick teases, moving on to David’s forehead.

“It’s kind of romantic, I guess,” David grumbles. “Like as romantic as a rash can get.”

“Well, don’t set the bar too high,” Patrick murmurs distractedly, focused on his task.

Patrick can feel David watching him closely as he applies the remaining lotion, and he smiles a little without taking his eyes off his hands on David’s face. 

“There, all done. See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? We’ll reapply before we go to bed so that you can sleep comfortably. Is the benadryl helping?”

Patrick turns to put the lotion back in the medicine cabinet.

“I think so. Thanks,” David says in a small voice. 

When Patrick turns around, he’s surprised to see that David’s eyes are wet again, his lips pulled tight.

“Hey,” Patrick says softly. “You’re going to be fine, it’s just a little rash, it’ll be gone in no time. Come on, come lie down with me for a bit.”

Patrick leads David across the hall and into his hideous bedroom at Ray’s, feeling his concern creep up a notch when David doesn’t even make a sarcastic comment about the decor. David curls up on his side of the bed, facing away from Patrick, and Patrick curls around him worldlessly, happy to hold David quietly if that’s what he needs. It surprises him still how much relief he feels to be with David after not even a full day apart, and he pulls him in tight, relishing their closeness now.

“It’s not just the stupid rash,” David admits quietly, after a few minutes.

Patrick rubs his thumb over David’s soothingly, waiting for him to elaborate. David sighs, reluctantly resigned to talking it out.

“He just _assumed_ I messed up. That I was being irresponsible and didn’t know how to run my business properly. Like that was the most reasonable explanation. And I know you do most of the numbers and spreadsheets and businessy stuff, but I do the vendor relationships. Even if I did yell at Brenda today.”

“Yeah, and then magically got her to forgive you and not only keep her products in stock but create a new line of hand cream exclusively for us. Oh, and you also handle sourcing, merchandising, design, and you know, came up with the entire concept for the store by yourself,” Patrick adds pointedly.

David was normally so confident in the things he excelled at that it sometimes still managed to surprise Patrick when he was reminded of how easily his confidence could be shaken when someone he actually respected made a critical comment.

“Ok, it wasn’t exactly _magical_. I told her we’d up her cut 10% on the hand creams,” David waves away the praise, but Patrick’s happy to hear a note of pride back in his voice.

They’re quiet for a few more minutes before David speaks again.

“Sometimes it feels like they never believe in me, no matter what I do. They didn’t believe my gallery would succeed without them snapping up all the sales. They had to actually physically see the store opening to even pay enough attention to what I was doing to see that I wasn’t just throwing my life and my money away. Dad didn’t even think I could handle a shift at a grocery store that gets ten customers a day without his help.”

Patrick stays silent, letting David talk. He wishes he could see his face, but he knows it’s easier for David to open up like this. He squeezes David’s hand, hoping he can convey some support without interrupting him.

“The worst part is that I believed him. I _know_ there’s nothing wrong with the product, and I could have lost a key vendor because I panicked and thought it must be my fault.”

“But you didn’t and it wasn’t,” Patrick finally can't help but say, rubbing his hand over David’s upper arm soothingly.

“Yeah, I know,” David nods unconvincingly.

Patrick wishes there were more he could say, but he resorts to hugging David even closer. David sighs, finding Patrick’s hand again.

“I’m sorry I cancelled the account. I was just upset. I’ll talk to-”

“It’s fine, David,” Patrick interrupts firmly. “And you don’t have to do anything. We’re doing absolutely fine without it. Above what I projected, actually. If your dad wants to reopen his account, he can come talk to you himself.”

Patrick bites his tongue from saying the rest of what he wants to say, because there are sometimes things you just can’t say about other people’s families. He genuinely likes all the Roses, so much more than he ever would have expected to, and he knows they love David. He’ll never be able to thank them enough for letting David be himself, for both creating and accepting this beautiful, eccentric creature who Patrick gets to love (even if David doesn’t know it yet). He knows that most of their attempts to disuade David or talk down his ambitious dreams are misguided attempts to keep him from harm.

But he also knows that throughout his life, David’s father underestimated him, his mother neglected him when she wasn’t leaning on him in a way a parent shouldn’t lean on their child, and his sister often abandoned him without second thought. They’re different now, usually, and Patrick has mostly seen the best versions of all of them, separately and together. Sometimes, though, now that he knows them better, he can see the way that old habits flare back up when one of them is under stress, and it can be hard for Patrick to keep his mouth shut when David gets caught in the blaze. All these things that happened to David are in his past, but they’re fresh to Patrick, just like the harrowing stories about past relationships that David drops casually in conversations. Patrick wasn’t there to protect David back then, so sometimes David’s stories make him angry or sad or anxious to a degree that David himself doesn’t feel anymore. Patrick wishes all of David’s pains and fears, past, present, and future, could be cured as easily as poison oak. He hopes that he can be the salve to those bigger aches, even if all that looks like in practice is holding him at the end of a bad day.

“I can hear you thinking back there,” David says wryly.

“Mmm,” Patrick responds noncommittally, nuzzling into the back of David’s neck, sucking briefly on the bone that juts out at the top of his spine when he’s curled up like this. 

“Just thinking that the motel is kind of off brand for us anyway,” Patrick teases, sensing that David is ready to lighten the mood.

He flicks his tongue against the back of David’s earlobe.

David makes a delicious sound and finally rolls over, facing Patrick begrudgingly.

“There you are,” Patrick says, grinning.

“I’m hideous,” David pouts.

“You’re beautiful,” Patrick replies matter-of-factly. 

“We’re not having sex while I look like this,” David says.

“What if we do it in a position where I can only see the back of your head?”

David squawks, reaching behind his head to grab his pillow and smacking Patrick with it before pulling it over his own face. Laughing, Patrick pulls him in to cuddle against his chest, pillow and all, rubbing his back until they both settle again.

“How about take out and a movie?” Patrick asks quietly.

“Will Ray be there?” David asks the pillow between his face and Patrick’s chest.

“Probably,” Patrick answers honestly. 

David groans into the pillow.

“Or we could just watch something on my laptop, and I’ll go get the food, and you won’t have to face anyone until tomorrow when you really will have to go to work and see people.”

David sighs long-sufferingly.

“I suppose that would be acceptable.”

“Ok. Hey, do you think they have _The Phantom of the Opera_ on Netflix?” Patrick asks innocently.

He deserves the pillow that comes flying at his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always so appreciated, so if you have the time, please feel free to tell me what you thought!


End file.
